


The Non-kiss

by relevant



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, i don' t know what you mean by facts, mostly Brad pondering his own stupidity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-16 23:47:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1366204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/relevant/pseuds/relevant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It never happened. Brad never gave up to the urge to kiss Nate. Nate never took that half step necessary to press they lips together.<br/>Ray never recruited a dragon slayer to save the missing prince charming.</p><p>This is not a fairytale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Non-kiss

Disclaimer : Own nothing except words arranged. This has about as much to do with the real people as a house cat has with a tiger.  
____________________________

It never happened. Brad never gave up to the urge to kiss Nate. Nate never took that half step necessary to press they lips together.

There were many almost in this non- kiss. In the desert when Nate started to crumble around the edges because he couldn't be the knight shining that would save all his guys from the idiocy rolling over. But Brad could slay his own dragons, and not even Lancelot could shine bright enough to unfuck the idiots in the charge of this invasion. He wanted to explain that to the LT, to smash their lips together and reassure him that if they all had faith in this Clusterfuck of a war any longer then that was because of him. Nate never stepped back when Brad tried to will the idea in his head by staring into Nate's face. He didn't come any closer.

***  
Almost when Nate's eyes grew so haunted with what for's and realization that they might have lost this war when they crossed the Iraqis border; even if deceleration of winning was a mere question of time.

***  
At the paddle party when Nate was getting out and they had won, even if it didn't feel like that. And Brad knew, probably had known when there was sand all around him, and some nights he had to spend a second remembering that this was a grave he had lied in on his own will. He could get out of there and jump into his Humvee and something in his brain nagged him that Nate could get out too. In the occasion that he manages to get out without getting blown into thousand pieces.

They all had been working on getting wasted for hours when Ray had decided to climb on the table in the rented guest house for a third time. Brad decided that he needed a breather. He didn't open the door hoping to find Nate, hadn't expected to find him sitting on the ground, under a twisted tree, older than both of them, but it didn't surprise him. He had lost the sight of Nate half an hour ago and after Poke had checked that they now ex captain hadn't fallen asleep or drowned in toilet - there weren't so many places left.

He wanted to go back in, hide into bathroom and stare into mirror until he's sure that all and any dumb shit that could turn show on his face stay fucking hidden. But Nate had that face, the one he wore when nothing made sense and everything hurt but there was nothing to do than let it go in loud bursts of laughter of tears. He had never seen Nate crying. This wasn't going to be the first time.

" Astounding strategic thinking, sir. Checking if our flank is secure, I assume."

Brad sat down, muddy earth clutching to jeans, small stones digging in his ass.  
Nate hadn't moved, like he hadn't noticed someone dropping right next to him. Sitting knee to knee, not pretending that there even was a better reason for that than just wanting to do so.  
Nate lifted his face and bore his gaze into Brad's. Like it was they designated resting place. Like it wasn't sappy and stupid - two grown ass men, sitting drunk in the mud at night, staring at each other.

" Not a sir anymore, just Nate. "

His lips moved in a lopsided smile, about as reliable as captain Americas mental state, but even an image of him seemed old. Like it had been a different lifetime when they went to war, killed bad guys and saw blown up children. Brad knew that it wasn't going to last, tomorrow he was going to nurse a headache, wash the jeans and dead kids would be back.

But if any of this was going to move into back patting mode he was better to move fast. A house full of recon marines was a force of destruction; better not to underestimate it. 

“ Still are for this night.” Something or someone crashed against the front door. “ And, sir, I hope that you don't expect to get the safety deposit back. I wouldn't let these 2 cent idiots into anything better than a prison cell.”

Nate grinned at that, head moving to a side, fingers clutching a beer bottle like he was about to throw it away. There was a weird thundering in Brad’ s chest and he wished that he hadn't drunk so much, could process the situation better. He leaned forward, just in time when front door burst open, revealing a drunk Ray, flanked with Poke and Lilly. All of them swaying in invisible wind, wearing a collection of curtains and couch cover. To top it all, Ray had decorated his head with a purple lamp shade. Pushing each other and shouting a mix between “ ooorah” and “ fuck this, no man, fuck this” they managed to get outside without falling over. Brad straightened himself, vertigo nearly making him barf.

“ Brad, you motherfucker. Someone kidnapped Nate and we need our resident dragon slayer to save his prissy ass from that mountain or whatever.” 

***  
Eventually Nate managed to convince everyone that he didn't need any saving. Eventually Ray passed out, draped over billiard table. Eventually Brad stopped cussing at Ray for not dragging his ass out of the house a few minutes later. 

***  
It’ s still dark outside when he wakes up and his neck feels cranky. How he did that lying on a perfectly comfortable pillow was a mystery. An alarm clock said that it was 4,32 at morning, meaning that he had had almost 5 hours of shuteye. Staying in the bed would only bring a headache and vague hatred toward humanity. Bathroom visit, change of clothing and coffee was in the order, but first there was something to take care off. 

Brad opened the bathroom door and turned light on with one hand. With door half open it was light enough to see the living room. 

In the dim light everything looked like it always did. A bookshelf in the corner, next to a flat screen TV and various game consoles; now vague lumps in the uneven light cast by the lone bulb in the bathroom. Armrest chair and a small table that had came with the place. A big ass couch that he had to custom order and wait for a month, well worth the money, even if delivery guys swore him to hell and back when it stuck in the doorway for a bit. Well worth it, especially now when there was just enough light to see the sleeping form of his - Brad, it’ s been years, call me Nate- huddled under a blanket. 

Brad wanted to get close enough, to check if he wasn’t dreaming. But there was the strong smell of alcohol in the air and Nate’ s coat thrown over his armchair - even if he had offered to put it in a closet. Besides, he had never dreamed of Nate sleeping alone on his couch.

Bathroom door shut behind him and Brad took a few deep breaths. Piss, shower, coffee and maybe then he could wake his ex captain to get a few answers.

There was this saying that one of his buddies liked. “ Everyone’ s got a plan, until they get punched in the mouth.” Brad favoured a shorted version.  
“ Whatever can go to hell; will.” 

The beginning of his list had gone fine, a quick shower had left him feeling almost human, and a change of clothing later he was almost good. Up until Brad learned that he was fresh out of coffee and a civvie managed to sneak up on him. To top it up, said civilian had taken his only kitchen chair and was drinking hot water from Brad’ s cup, staring at spot somewhere at the other side of the kitchen. 

“ It’ s been 5 months.” 

Nate looked up. There was a 2 day’ s worth of beard and he was wearing t-shirt and boxer shorts that he had slept in.  
Bra didn't want him to speak. Not before he has completed the list.

“ 5 months since we spoke face to face. 3 weeks since our latest written communication; we never spoke through phone.” 

Nate sipped more hot water. He didn't look away. 

**  
A kiss that happened wasn't one you would write home about. They teeth clashed together and Brad didn't know where to put his hands until Nate wrapped his around Brad’ s middle and pulled them together. There was spilled water and a broken cup. Nate still had a morning breath and Brad still hadn't had his coffee. Neither let go.

There were many times when non- kiss didn't happen. And one when it did.

**Author's Note:**

> " Everyone’ s got a plan, until they get punched in the mouth." -- Allegedly by Mike Tyson. Not claiming that Brad and Tyson are buddies. I might tho. Give me some time.


End file.
